Friday, August 23, 2013

Hey, better later than never...

...or not. Anyone that's cared for this little endeavor of mine, thank you. I can only offer my profound apologies for my lack of updates. Things have been weird. That's not an excuse...just what has been. I've allowed it to distract me from the purpose of this blog....and I shant do so again.Now then...let's kick this pig!

Delbert Belton; a retired aluminum company worker living in Spokane, Washington; served in the Pacific during the Second World War. He was wounded in action.

And then over half a century later, he dies from getting beaten down by two punks in a parking lot?What...the...motherfucking...FUCK is that bullshit?No! NO! I won't calm down. Fuck that. My own father could have been this guy. SO many of our fathers could have been this guy. He was 88 years old, had just walked out of the pool hall he enjoyed playing in, and got fucking murdered by two little cowardly, worthless bastards...for what police might as well describe as "no reason at all".What the fuck? Yeah, I'm one of the first people around to wave the "life ain't fair" flag...but COME ON! Let me put this as plainly as I can. If you have it in you ( like lacking basic empathy and respect) to beat an elderly guy into a puddle of his own fluids as a random act of violence...Fuck You. Fuck you right in the neck with a pitchfork. End yourself. No seriously....just do it. We will all be SO much happier and better off without you. So go. Just find a cliff and hurl yourself off it in a desolate and abandoned part of the world so that we don't have to clean your stupid evil brains off anything. I know some will say "How can you so coldly rationalize saying something like that in this time of bullying-driven suicide" or "What gives you the moral high-ground to say such a thing". If you're asking me that, fuck you too. These two Darwin Award nominees are fucking evil. Period. They're not lost souls. They never had one. They aren't merely needing a support structure for their lives to be reclaimed. They're sociopaths, violent ones at that. To me, they barely deserve due process, but they do get it. That's why I say, "Please, give a blowjob to a loaded 12-guage, huh?". Spare all the rest of us the useless process. The expense. The time and trouble to lock your asses up for what has to be one of the most chicken-shit murders outside shaking babies. Break into a biolab and lick all the petri dishes. Go ahead....we'll happily give you all the time you like to die that way. This was a guy, that by accounts, never had any trouble with anyone. He was murdered, by what the police can figure out at this point, because YOLO! It's this kind of shit that actually succeeds in making me glad my own father isn't around to see it. That's right. They actually manage to make me glad my own father is dead. That's how fucked up this kind of shit is and how much they need to be expunged from our particular Tree of Life.I was having such a good day before I read that. Now I can't unread it. For that alone, you two mega-sized asshats, I hope you hate every single second of the rest of your lives. Without reprieve or possibility of anyone shedding one fucking tear for you.

As usual, thanks for reading and feel free to leave your comments if you care to. Share if you agree!

About Me

Hi! Pardon the word avalanche, it's how I roll. I'm a 40 year-old, transgender woman living in upper Minnesota. Books and writing are some (read:most) of the things that I'm centered around. Learning and experiencing. My musical, film and artistic tastes are best classified as eclectic (read: insanely varied and completely driven by mood). While progressive in most schools-of-thought, I do have a number of old-fashioned views that I enjoy and take great comfort in sharing with someone. To be frank, I revel in my femininity and enjoy spending time with others who do as well.

I don't know what I'd hoped for in engaging socially in this way. I mean that....I literally don't know. And I still don't. Maybe just connection...maybe inclusion...maybe a bitchin' brownie recipe? Maybe just interacting with people who can and do empathize with the daily trials? The older I get the more unsure I am about some things, and more steady with others. I guess that is as good a reason for all of this as any other. Me, just looking for the balance point. In the meanwhile, I guess I'll do my best to stave off the existential road-rash by not wallowing, nor missing anymore of the possibilities left on the road ahead.